I Am So Much Better Than This

Source

2013, thus far, has been an intensely reflective year for me. I have been deep in thought trying to discover what makes me tick and how I can make this year a success in my personal and professional life. I am also trying like hell to get to the root of my pervasive unhappiness. I wasn't always such a drag - what the hell happened to me? I haven't come to a final conclusion on that issue yet, but I have at least one idea about the origin of my discontent: I am so much better than this.

I have always suffered (or reveled?) in delusions of grandeur. From a very young age, I was certain that I was going to be famous. I was going to live in a castle, have seven kids, and when I had time off from job as a Pediatric Intensive Care Registered Nurse, would write and illustrate children's books. This was my plan when I was four. In the fifth grade, after watching way too much Homicide: Life on the Streets I briefly toyed with the idea of becoming a homicide detective, then a forensic entomologist  then a coroner. This was all well before CSI was a sparkle in some producer's eye. Then, in the 6th grade, I saw Anne Rice on The Today Show, talking up her new book Pandora. She traveled all over the Mediterranean doing "research" and then got to write it all off on her taxes. At that point, it was settled; I was going to be a writer. But I wasn't just going to be any writer. Oh no. I was going to be a famous novelist, simply bleeding money and class. Like Anne Rice.

Also, Christian Slater was going to marry me. Source

In high school I worked very hard in all my English classes as I knew that I was expected to go to college. I wrote a lot. In my spare time, I would day dream about how famous I was going to be - how rich I was going to be - how impressive I was going to be. Being of a generous nature, I didn't leave my friends out of these fantasies. I dreamed up impressive futures for them too. In my lizard brain, we were all going to be  fabulously successful. But not only that, I thought we were all going to achieve our fame and fortune in our 20s. Ha! None of my friends are not yet famous, nor are they making any strides in that direction. Some of them are very successful  but dammit, I'm a name dropper. I want their names in lights! I believed that they were that talented at their chosen arts and vocations. I thought our ten year class reunion would have red carpet and a parking lot full of limos. Champagne wishes and caviar dreams.

As sad as I am that none of us are even almost famous, I'm more stricken by the reality that I am so woefully far behind in my own chosen vocation of writing. My career development has been on hold since 2009, and with the economy, the Army, motherhood, and my limited skill set, it shows no sign of stopping. You can imagine what a blow it is to my fragile little psyche that I am stuck and stagnating in the heart of suburbia. I went to college and then - nothing. I fell in love, and I traded my prospects of fame for domesticity, which wasn't all that bad until That Sprout came along. You see, Sprouts tend to require a lot of time, work, and attention. Doesn't leave a lot of time for honing one's literary skills.

My "would be" husband is disappointed too. See how sad
he is? This is why we called off the wedding. Source

Lately though, I've realized that there is hope. That Sprout is older, and I have a plan to dig myself out of this pit of self pity and depression in which I've been existing for the past four years. So, I'm not famous yet. Bukowski, who I think may be my spirit guide, didn't make it until he was in his 40s. So, I'm not the next Orson Welles. I thought that at 26, it was game over - do or die, but really, how awful would it be to peak so soon. "I knew I should create a sensation," gasped the rocket. And then he went out. No. That's not the way to do it, and success isn't guaranteed with a college diploma. That's another large pill that it's taken me all this time to swallow. Things worth having are hard to get. Health. Money. Fame. Respect. Employment. You have to work for them. You have to persevere.

Perseverance. Struggle. Fighting. I've never been good at these things. I admire people who are (hence my hero worship of Orson Welles), but I have always been one to buckle at the first signs of adversity. I have never worked hard for anything I have, which is why I have few things of value. However, the things I value the most - relationships - are also the things that have required the most from me, and I am truly blessed with some amazing relationships. Now the time had come to put my mouth guard in and my head down. Now is the time to fight for the things I want: money, success, health, and fame. Because I am so much better than this.